220322 Sentinel, Karate

I have, for reasons unknown, been watching Karate and Kung Fu movies lately.
Watching them reminds me of when Annie and I took lessons in Escondido, Ca.

This picture is the only one I have of me in my uniform ( proper name is a Gi).
The picture has Joyce, me, grandma Micky and our nephew Patrick. He is now approaching senior status and spent 23 years in the U.S. Army, so you can get an idea of how long ago the picture was taken.

We studied under Masayuki Shima. That man was the most powerful man I have ever known. He exuded strength of character. Shima liked to use me as a prop for a take-down demonstration. Our studio had a concrete floor with a thin carpet over it. He could grab, lift me over his head and flatten me on the floor, so easily I did not feel a thing and then demonstrate a heel stomp to the ribcage. He could have broken several ribs easily, but stopped an inch before my demise. He also had a trick where he could grab a hand, twist and put a man face down on the pavement with his arm up behind him, twist the wrist back and hold him in a way it was impossible to move. His teaching was not to fight, but if there is no choice but fight to hurt your opponent so the opponent would never want to face you again. One night we were doing our warm up exercises, when a gang of six or more local hoodlums walked into the studio. Shima told me to take over the class for a while. Shima walked over and took a step into the middle of the gang and just stood there. He never made a movement, never said a word, but within a moment or two they all disbursed like a group of rats leaving a sinking ship and they never came back.

Every class we practiced our kicks, trying to get them high and powerful. One afternoon I was in the garage practicing and we had an old stool that I removed the legs from to use for kicking and punching practice. Joyce came into the garage and I asked her to hold the stool with the wooden seat toward her and lift it up face high. She was reluctant to do so and I assured her that was much higher than I could possibly reach. She held it up and I did a roundhouse kick, higher than I ever did before or since and you may have already guessed, pasted it back into her forehead. We were both shocked. She wasn’t hurt, but did have a light bruise. That was the first and last time she ever lent a hand.

I was never very good at karate, but Annie and I enjoyed going to the classes. It was fun and I lost a lot of weight with all of the exercise involved. I became so thin that Joyce told me not to lose any more pounds; I was too skinny. Despite my beer drinking I weigh 22 pounds less than back then and 55 pounds less than I did when I worked at Litton until 2007. I do Tai Chi exercises for elderly folks. They are smooth and gentle movements, unlike karate. I also do exercises Joyce’s physical therapist taught us after Joyce’s long bout in the hospital in 2017. Those exercises keep this body moving, which is very important for senior citizens. I know many of you readers get out tromping through nature and enjoy that as I enjoy hearing about it. I had enough of that sort during our years on the farm to last me for the rest of my lifetime. For my height the ideal weight is 160, but I am below that and hope to stay that way. This has been a fun trip down memory lane for me.